Jellybean
I went to a large highschool in Wales, and news of this event spread amongst our spotty ears like fat, sweaty wildfire.
Mr. G was a fat, sweaty Welsh teacher who shrieked orders in a high, nasal bark.
Welsh lessons were compulsory until we were 16, and a bit of a joke, especially if you had G as teacher. We were young, carefree and horny, why would we ever need to speak Welsh, especially with this man/buffalo hybrid?

Mr. G was a widower, and his wife had charmingly christened him "Jellybean", I can only assume because he consumed the sugary nuggets by the truck full.
Welsh lessons were held in cramped, hot portacabins, and one particularly armpittingly moist summer day, the brats were completing a mundane task in Welsh (probably describing favourite colours/bands/masturbation fantasies) and covertly passing something between themselves. Of course, G demanded to see the offending object that was causing such disruption.

It was a bag of jellybeans.

The reaction was instantaneous.
His bottom lip shook.
He thrust his arm into the air, scattering the multicoloured beasts everywhere, and burst into a wobbly jog towards the tiny storage room at the back of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.
A moment of silence followed, the calm before the storm. Then, silent chaos. Every table, every chair, every item that could be moved, was quickly placed in front of the closet door. A triumphant battle cry of "ARGHHHHHHHHH FREE LESSON!!!!!!!!" was emitted, and a stampede of sweaty, victorious teenagers burst into the sun, leaving the screams of a very trapped, very angry, and very Welsh buffalo in the distance...
(reducedfatLOLcat, Sun 1 Feb 2009, 2:05, 1 reply)

ahh, compulsory welsh lessons
Did you have the same awful textbooks as us, which failed miserably at being cool and on the level with teenagers?

As in "Frankie Frankie, Rap Rap Rap"
(Roopy all is not what it seams, Sun 1 Feb 2009, 13:03, closed)